About Me

I thought my fairytale had come true when I married the man of my dreams - and in many ways, it has. But after 16 cycles of hope and disappointment followed by a trip to see a consultant and three failed ICSI attempts, we have a diagnosis of both severe oligozoospermia and diminished ovarian reserve to contend with, and wonder whether we'll ever get a chance to complete our family.

The clinics - dramatis personae

The old clinic - where we had ICSI #1 (October 2009) and ICSI #2 (November/December 2009)

Mr No Nonsense - the consultant, a man of few words who doesn't like to sugar the pill

Nurse Perfect - my favourite nurse

Nurse First Time - the nurse I saw on our first appointment, who is my second favourite

Nurse Not Quite - the other nurse

The XXXX clinic - where we had ICSI #3 in 2010

Mr Miracle Worker - the head consultant

Mr Greek God - the consultant we saw on our first appointment

Mr Wonderful - the consultant we saw most often during ICSI #3

Aussie Girl - the nurse we saw on our first appointment

Wednesday, 20 October 2010

Imbalance

DH and I had a Big Talk last night.

It all started with him working late and failing to turn up to Niece #2's birthday tea. We were all expecting him, and the nieces kept asking when he was going to arrive. He claims he had mentioned in the morning that he would be working late. If so, I certainly didn't hear him, and in any case, since he knew we had plans for the evening, I feel that he should have at least acknowledged that he was going to be changing the plans rather than just casually remark that he might be late. The birthday tea had been discussed several times over the last week, and he said nothing to suggest he wouldn't be there when I reminded him of it by e-mail during the day.

Anyway, eventually I got worried that he was so late, and texted him to ask where he was - and was pretty cross when he replied that he was still at work. He did join me at my sister's house eventually, but not until after the children were in bed.

Somehow, the discussion that we had on the way home returned to a familiar theme - one that you'd think had been done to death, except that nothing ever changes.

DH is easy-going to the point of laziness and complete passivity. He's always very good at agreeing with me that X or Y needs to be done, and he's usually good at emotional support once a decision has been made. Even then, though, I find that if the decision involves something I need to do, he'll support me. If the decision involves something he needs to do, it almost invariably ends up not getting done, regardless of my support/reminders/nagging.

But the day-to-day running of our life - decisions both big and small about everything from whether it's worth trying for another IVF treatment or whether we should try to adopt, right down to what we eat every day and even what clothes he should buy - all those decisions are left to me. If I ask his opinion about anything, he always says, "You decide." And on the rare occasions when he does make a decision of his own, they're often bad ones - like unerringly choosing the unhealthiest option on the menu when we go out for a meal.

And I'm tired of bearing the entire responsibility for everything that goes on in our life. I'm tired of the fact that he doesn't support me in the decision-making, and that if the decision involves him, he'll listen and nod along, not disagree, but then go away and do the complete opposite of what we've agreed. If he disagrees, he should say so, but I'm fed up with this form of passive aggression.

And guess what - most of the 'conversation' yesterday consisted of me talking, followed by long pauses as I waited for a response. Occasionally, he would say, "Yes, you're right" or "That's true", but he never engaged in trying to work out anything positive.

Anyone who thinks they would like a husband who never disagrees with them should take careful note - it's the most exhausting and frustrating thing in the world. I dream of the day that he gives me a reasoned response that shows he has actually thought about something we're discussing and has come to a different conclusion. I want to be his wife, not his bloody mother.